Lorelie Brown - Riding the Wave

Her head tilted. “I think that might have been the cheesiest pickup line I’ve heard.”

“Fine.” He held back his laugh by pure will. “If we go to my place, I’ll make you come so hard you’ll scream.”

“Now, that is how to pick a chick up.”

The thing about a small beach town was that walking everywhere was possible. Sometimes, that was awesome. Walking provided an extra level of connection to the town community; stopping and chatting on the sidewalk became the norm. Not to mention, in California the gorgeous weather meant extra feel good from the sun at any opportunity.

But when a four-block walk stood between Avalon and some record-breaking orgasms, she had a tendency to get impatient.

By the time Tanner had unlocked his back door, she had a hand plastered across his back. “In you go,” she said with a nudge.

“Somebody a little greedy?”

She loved his smile. The pure enjoyment he seemed to take from the world at large.

And she especially loved the way his hands felt closing over her hips. She almost believed she could lean into him and those big paws would never let her drop.

When she gave a little hop, her legs wound around his hips. His hands curved under her ass. The khaki shorts she’d worn that day were sturdy, but they weren’t that thick. His every fingertip seemed to burn through them, grazing the tender skin at the center of her cheeks.

Hot pleasure rocked her. He made her think wicked things, made her want to grab onto the possibilities. She’d spent so long in her own head, sometimes it was difficult to escape.

But the slow, openmouthed kisses he dragged down her neck were certainly doing their part.

Maybe it spoke to some little weakness of hers. Some depth unplumbed, that she wanted to lean on him so hard. Wanted him to pull her along with him and teach her how to claim that easy sort of center.

But hell, she’d claimed her own path in everything else. Sometimes it was easier to let go.

She wove her fingers through his hair. Even those gold strands seemed brighter and more vibrant than anything about her.

Would he claim her?

She’d always wanted to be flat-out taken. Slammed up against a wall and fucked dirty-style. But she’d never been with a man who’d taken those kinds of liberties. Or she’d never driven a man crazy enough to want it.

The way she held her mouth up to his was an invitation. And a test, if she were to peel back the layers she didn’t often like to delve beneath.

Tanner passed with flying colors.

She’d barely lifted her mouth to his before he kissed her. Stroked his tongue over hers, then took her bottom lip between his teeth.

The whole time he carried her, hands still locked under her thighs. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, grabbed a nice handful of T-shirt. He was a man on a mission and God forbid she even think about stopping him.

She obviously didn’t want to.

The kitchen counter wasn’t exactly what she’d been expecting but she’d be damned if she’d protest. The cold granite at the edge of her shorts sent a chill up through her skin. Nothing could suppress the deep heat curling through her or dampening her pussy.

“There,” Tanner said, leaning back to look down between them. He fitted his pelvis carefully to her. Holy Christ, was he big. Hard.

She held down her shiver only by dragging her nails over the back of his neck. The feeling went through her veins like a hit of top-shelf prescription drugs. “What?”

“Been more than twenty-four hours since I’ve been between your thighs.” He flashed another grin at her, this one completely unrepentant. “I’m thinking we can’t let that happen again.”

“You’re a busy man,” she said. Her fingers danced over his shirt, but that wasn’t enough. “Got that dinner tonight, a meeting tomorrow. And I’ll be in photographer mode.”

A girl needed a little look-see now and then. She curled her fingers under the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head.

He laughed as it went, but he let her pull the T-shirt off easily enough.

And then she had him at her disposal. All sorts of lovely muscle and heavy curves. The little fingers of connectors from his ribs to his abs were meant for licking. She wanted that chance. Wanted to climb all over him, exploring as she went.

The best kind of sex was a full-throttle experience.

She spread her hands wide over the ribbed divides of his stomach. Under her touch, they went from already-firm planks to individual boxes.

She liked having that kind of power over him. Knowing that her touch made his lips part and his eyes go a little bit fuzzy.

But when he wrapped her ponytail around one hand and tugged her head back she almost melted straight into the countertop.

She might have to look at how much she liked this feeling of being owned. That’d definitely have to be some other time though, because this moment was all about the liquid pleasure spinning out from his mouth onto her neck.

Or the way he didn’t even rock when she locked her ankles at his ass and tried to tug him closer. She let her eyes drift shut, let herself float along.

She’d lose herself to him if she wasn’t careful. Hand everything over, and it would hurt that much more when he left again. Or when she was forced to leave first, in order to not see. Tanner had been a force in her thoughts for so long, simmering beneath the surface. If it all went bad, she wouldn’t be able to take it.

She’d much rather get him inside her. She tried to kiss him, but he seemed intent on other purposes. The hard grip of his hands as he skimmed her shirt off over her head said he was a man on a mission.

He cupped her breasts. Made her damned grateful she’d broken out the pink-and-white pretties. Her girls put in quite the showing in their fancy bra. The warm tan of Tanner’s hands right next to her paler skin sent wiggling little tingles down her.

They only got stronger when he ducked his head and slicked his tongue over the top of one swell. She’d always counted herself as pretty lucky in having responsive breasts, but this was out of control. He tucked his thumbs inside her bra cups, scraping roughly over her nipples.

Maybe it wasn’t ladylike to scrabble off her shorts, but she was pretty sure she’d left ladylike behind. Years ago. She was only trying to grab onto what she still could at this point. Tanner let go of her breasts long enough to tug the material down her hips while she pushed up from the counter.

The tiny scrap of pink-striped panties didn’t conceal much. And it was entirely possible that was a damp spot on the front of them. She didn’t care. Because Tanner lowered one hand to cup her front, sending a whip-sharp crack of pleasure through her when he rubbed.

Her head dropped forward, her forehead resting on his shoulder. Still her hands didn’t stop moving. “Oh God,” she whispered.

“You like that?” There was a fair possibility that the curve of his mouth was another smirk. She hated those and loved them at the same time. Mostly, she wanted to be responsible for shaking them up. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

The words should have been a good thing, but they got her going in all sorts of unpleasant ways. The implication that any sort of again or future or once more waited on them. They had only each connection, each touch. Looking past them only meant looking toward pain when they moved on.

And she was realizing with every kiss how much of her had rolled over and shown its preciously soft underbelly. Tanner could take anything of her and she’d give it.

There was no way. She couldn’t let that happen.

This was sex. Only sex. She’d deal with all the fallout later. It would all be in her own head—and her own heart—anyhow. He’d be gone by the time she realized there were pieces to sweep up.

Lost inside her head again, she scrunched her eyes shut, her head still leaning on his shoulder. At least he held her up so well.

She never expected him to notice. But he did. One hand wedged under her jaw, forced her face up to him. “Here. I’m here, and you’re here.” He flashed a huge grin at her. “And my hand is in your panties, making you wet.”

She didn’t expect the laugh, but at the same time she didn’t know why she wouldn’t. The guy could definitely lighten the mood. “Yes. It is.” She gasped over a particular thrum he made over her clit. “That right there. Do more of that.”

“So demanding,” he chided, but it didn’t sound at all real or concerned. Instead, he did it again. Then again, then more, until she was panting and getting sweaty at the edges.

If he quit, she thought she might freaking climb him and wedge herself down over his cock.

She needed more. A deeper, harder fuck. Something to drive away all these happy, cheery thoughts sweeping through her.

He seemed to be reading her mind again. Two fingers filled her, stroking a spot deep inside her that sent a breath-robbing pleasure streaking over her limbs. At the same time, he unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts, letting them droop to his hips.

There was no way she could let that go unnoticed. She filled her hands with his length. And holy Christ was there a lot of him to hold. She’d felt him the other night, of course, but that wasn’t the same thing. When she curled her fingers around his girth, they didn’t meet at the tips.

So that was why he’d rocked her socks so hard.

It was almost a relief. Simple biology, something that could be replicated with someone else.